


Blind Date

by LadybugsFanfics



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Blind Date, Cute, F/M, Fluff, and it ends really good, being set up can be scary, but sometimes it works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21771271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadybugsFanfics/pseuds/LadybugsFanfics
Summary: Your long time friend has set you up on a Blind Date and says it’s worth a shot because ‘you’re perfect for each other’. You’re having doubts, but with Sophie’s reassuring words, you decide to dive in.
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Reader
Kudos: 17





	Blind Date

“Ben,” you say and put your hand to your forehead, “are you really sure this blind date thing is a good idea?”

A chuckle comes from the other end of the line. “ _Yes, Y/N_ , _I believe it is. He’s a good friend of mine. Sophie agrees that you two would be perfect for each other._ ” 

You roll your eyes. “Calming, but I’m still not sure about this.” You sigh, and purse your lips. “Can I talk to Sophie? If she’s there?”

“ _Of course. One moment._ ” 

There’s a shift in sound, and a moment later, a soft voice speaks into the phone. “ _I hear you have some cold feet?_ ” 

You let out a strained laugh. “Cold feet? More like I would really like to know who I’m going on a date with nervousness. I don’t know, Soph, it’s just…” 

“ _Hey, think about it this way. You get the chance to meet someone new, and whatever happens, you tried? You’ve been single since we met you. It might be time to dip your toes in the water? Just check?_ ”

“You’re probably right,” you say, “I’ll just finish getting ready and walk to that stupid way too fancy resturaunt Ben told me to. Honestly, I hope this guy’s rich.”

Sophie laughs. “ _You might get a lovely surprise.”_

“Oh, fuck off.” 

“ _Have a nice date. Tell me about it later, ‘kay?_ ” 

“Yeah, of course. Bye. Tell Ben to fuck off too for me, yeah?” You shake your head, hear her little ‘will do, bye’ and hang up. _God, what did I agree to_ , you think and try to push the anxiety down. 

You throw your phone onto the bed and sigh as you raid through your closet for something fancy enough to wear. Honestly, you should’ve gone shopping. 

> Standing outside the restaurant, cold air nips your skin. You drag your jacket tighter around you, hating that the agreement was to meet _outside_ the building and not just get to the table right away. The problem: you don’t know whose name the table is reserved under.

After another blast of cold wind, you fish your phone out of your pocket. The time reads 08.03 PM. Three minutes late. And you’ve already been waiting for over ten. “Well, I’m not waiting out here anymore,” you mutter under your breath as you turn to walk through the doors to the restaurant. 

The warm air instantly hits you and you shake of the cold feeling from being outside. You’re greeted by a male, who politely asks for your coat. Taking out belongings of value (phone, keys and wallet), you hand it to him. 

“May I show you to your table, miss?” he asks. 

You bite the inside of your lip. “Uhh, honestly, I’m not certain what name it’s under.” You try for a nervous smile. 

He smiles back. “I’m guessing you’re part of the blind date couple we were ‘discretely’ informed off,” he says. “You’re date hasn’t arrived yet, but I’m sure he’ll be here soon. You want me to show you the table, or would you like to wait?”

“You can show it to me now. That’s fine.”

You type a quick text to Ben telling him to say to your date not to wait outside but just go in right away. As the waiter stops by a table, you get a reply; ‘you got it, dude’ and shake your head with a small smile. 

“Here you go,” the waiter says. “Hope your date shows up soon. You deserve better.” And before he goes back to his post, he winks. 

You shake your head and swallow the lump in your throat. _God, I hope he’s here soon._ Unfortunately, the waiter didn’t give you a menu, so no read through of that before your date comes. Nor do you really want to make the impression that you’re constantly on your phone by using it when he comes. 

Bored, you look around at the other people there. Most of the tables are for four people. Around most of them sits men and some women in suits, giving you the vibe that they’re all white-collars. It makes you slightly uncomfortable to think that the restaurant is more a business-meeting place than a date place. But maybe that’s just a feeling more than a fact. 

You turn your head in the direction of the entrance and release your breath in relief seeing the waiter coming in your direction, followed by a tall male in a blue suit. From your viewpoint, it’s hard to see exactly how he looks, but within a minute he’ll be by the table and you’ll know. Anway, that isn’t what matters―you try to tell yourself. 

“Here you go,” the waiter says to your date and smiles. He hands you a menu each. You accept yours with a small ‘thank you’. As he leaves, you get up to greet your date. 

“Hi,” you say and hold out your hand, “I’m Y/N.” 

He takes your hand in his, blue eyes smile warmly as he says, “Nice to meet you. I’m Tom. Shall we sit?” His voice a low hum with an accent. 

You nod and sit back down. 

You date wears a navy blue and striped suit that fits like it’s tailored. He wears a light blue shirt underneath and a navy tie. When he takes off his suit jacket, you can see that his shirt also fits like it’s tailored― and to be quite honest, it’s a pretty good view. It feels a little unfair. In addition to a nice body, you note a strong jawline covered in a five o’ clock shadow, and _are those real cheekbones?_ The small strawberry blonde curls atop his head makes you swallow a lump in your throat, only for it to come back up and make you slightly more nervous than you already were. 

Looking at him makes you feel inadequate. You had decided to go fancy-casual; a long black skirt with leg slits on both sides and a black tight-fitting long sleeved crop top that accentuates your boobs. Despite feeling good in the clothes, you can’t help but feel underdressed. Tom is definitely out of your league, and he looks somewhat familiar. 

You both scan the menu. No one says anything until the waiter comes to take your order. Taking away the menus opens up the need for conversation. Only, how do you start one? 

“How do you know Benedict?” asks Tom.

You answer, relieved that you didn’t have to come up with a topic yourself. “I wrote a short story, made it into a script that I sent to a theatre here in London, and they liked it. Ben was cast as the lead role, and Sophie was actually the director. I worked with them for a pretty long time and we kept in touch.” You smile at the fond memory. “What about you?”

“Oh, we met in 2010 whilst shooting a movie. And we have been friends ever since.” Tom smiles. “We actually live very close to each other, here in London.”

“Really? It amazes me that if you are such good friends that he hasn’t mentioned you,” you say with a little joking-tone. “And apparently I haven’t seen that movie.”

Tom smiles. “He hasn’t mentioned you either, not by name at least. But you’re a writer?” 

You nod. “Yeah, mostly short stories, but I’m trying to get a novel finished. I write some scripts too, for fun, mostly, but I prefer the rather classical storytelling with a narrator and all the other stuff.” You add a joking laugh to the end of the sentence. 

Tom smiles. “Hehe. To be honest, I do that, too.” Tom lets out a laugh. “Though, I do read a lot of scripts and I find them to be highly entertaining usually.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I do too. I am one of those that sits in front of netflix a little too much,” you admit. “But I always find time to read. It’s the one thing that’s always been there, you know?” 

You continue to talk about books, and reading, and writing, and acting. Never before have you been on a date where the conversation flows as easily. Even with the food there, the conversation keeps going. You talk mostly about the outer layer stuff―work, small childhood memories, friends, hobbies. Both of you drink a couple of glasses of wine each. 

“Would you like dessert?” asks Tom as the waiter takes away the empty dishes. 

You give it a thought. “Actually, no. It sounds good, but I’m not tempted.” Tom quirks an eyebrow. “What do you say we pay and go somewhere else?” you ask, hoping your eyes convey the message you want. 

By the way Tom smiles back, you’re pretty sure it did. Not long after, the check is paid (you offered but Tom wouldn’t have it), and the two of you are outside, walking along the streets. 

“This was really nice,” you say after a few too many moments of silence. “I have to admit, when Ben suggested this I was kind of… on edge.”

Tom nods along. “Yes, I did have my doubts. But Benedict told me we were perfect for each other. I only agreed when Sophie vouched.”

You laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I did, too.” You look down at the ground, kicking a little rock and hating that you decided to wear high heels (they’re great, but it kind of hurts in the length). “Do you maybe wanna go somewhere? Park? Lake? Ice cream shop?” 

His hand brushes yours, and you bite your lip. “This is going to sound… blunt. But my place isn’t that far from here if you would like another glass of wine, maybe?” If not for his accent you’d probably hit him (a joke; there was way more in the favor of not hitting him). 

You intertwine your fingers with his, and nod. “I’d like that, yeah.” 

> Tom wasn’t lying when he said his place wasn’t far. You walked about three blocks and were in the right neighborhood. Two unfortunate realizations on your part; 1. This is about the same neighborhood as Benedict lives in; 2. This is a rich neighborhood, meaning Tom has money, meaning Tom is not only an actor but a successful one and it starts to bug you a little bit that you can’t place where you’ve seen him before. 

You take a right turn and in a matter of minutes you’re inside his house. _Did I shave? Did I…? Am I at…?_ Your mind races with thoughts on what might happen, what might not happen, and your preparations for the date. To be honest, despite your thoughts going there very much in that moment, sex on the first date was a big no-no in your head. 

Tom takes your coat and hangs it up. Without even giving it a second thought, you take off your shoes, which has Tom let out a light chuckle as he does the same. “You’re one of the few people who does that without me telling them to,” he says. 

“Oh, well. I don’t really see the point in cleaning a house if you’re gonna drag the dirt in with you. What’s the point in vacuuming if it’s dirty thirty seconds later?” You smile up at him. _God, he’s really tall._

“Exactly,” says Tom and smiles. “Would you like that glass of wine?”

You nod. “Could I maybe borrow your bathroom?” He nods and tells you which room it is. With a smile you go in the direction his points in. 

It’s a cozy bathroom. Actually, not bad at all. The shower is quite big and you curse your brain for going straight to what it would be like to have sex in it. Also for ‘it’s big enough’ being your first thought. God, curse that handsome man. God, curse Ben for not telling you about him sooner. Actually, as you check yourself in the mirror (makeup still pretty on point) you take out your phone and send a ‘what the hell is wrong with you?!’ text to Ben, with the follow up; ‘you’ve known him since 2010 and you only now thought to make me go on a date with him?!”

You don’t wait for an answer. Rather you give yourself a smile in the mirror and some encouraging words, and leave with hopes high enough (like maybe a kiss). 

Tom sits in the living room, phone in hand. Two wine glasses are placed on the coffee table. You cough as you sit down, gaining his attention. He smiles up at you and puts away his phone. He hands you a glass as you tuck one leg under your butt. 

Neither of you speak. You take a sip of wine and nod when you do. “This is a really good wine,” you say. 

“Yes, uhh, it’s Italian,” replies Tom. 

_What the hell happened to the smooth talk from before? Am I really this nervous? Is_ he _this nervous?_ Your mind goes away with overthinking. Does he like you? Well, he did invite you into his house. But does that mean he likes you? Maybe you’re just a good conversation partner? But he did offer wine, which does have alcohol, which might be because he wants you a little tipsy, or at least with enough percentage so you would put out? 

You shake of the feeling, not believing someone like Tom could ever take advantage of you. Instead, you take another sip of wine, lean back and smile at him. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?” you ask. _That was blunt._

Tom smiles and laugh this ‘hehe’ laughter that makes your heart skip a beat. He takes a sip of wine and puts down the glass. “You don’t seem to know exactly who I am, but, uhh, I’ve done quite a lot of interviews. Some have me doing things I would rather not remember. I did this silly thing on _MTV After Hours With Josh Horowitz_. I made up some really silly pranks that made no sense and said loki’d afterwards with this weird laugh and I did this.” Tom puts his hand up to the side of his face and holds it there as if he has a monocle. 

And it hits you. Right in the moment he said ‘loki’d’ and weird laugh. You would like to facepalm. “Oh my God,” you say. “You’re Tom Hiddleston. Oh, my God.” You take a sip of wine to calm down a little. “You’re probably one of the actors I always thought I’d recognize. Loki is my favorite MCU character and I love you in Kong: Skull Island. I am correct that I haven’t seen the film with you and Benedict, but honestly, I have never felt this stupid.” 

He laughs. This godly sound that makes the mistake seem such tiny, but… 

You put down the wine glass and lay your head in your hands. Through them you mumble, “this is my most embarrassing moment. For sure.”

Gentle hands pry yours away from your face, and a slender finger tilts your cheek up so your eyes meet Tom’s. He smiles at you; lips pressed together and wrinkles around his eyes. “That’s okay, Love, really. I enjoyed talking to someone who didn’t know what I had played in. It made some of the stories more fun, kind of.” 

“I should go back to pretending I don’t know, huh?” you ask. 

Tom chuckles. “No, I’m glad you know. It would be weird if you didn’t.” He smiles and cups your face. Your eyes meet. Tom’s are a beautiful shade of blue. Complemented by his blue shirt, they look almost electric. He licks his lips. “You have beautiful eyes,” he whispers.

You press your lips together and smile, feeling the blush creep into your cheeks. At the thought, you notice how close you sit. His face is only an inch from yours. It would be so easy to kiss him, or for him to kiss you. _God, it would be so…_

However, is it really a good idea? It is the first date. You only know the basics of each other. Work, a little family and friends, and hobbies. There is more to him, and there is more to you. 

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by his lips on yours. His right hand is still cupping your face, and he places his left on your knee. Taken by surprise, it takes you a moment to react, but as you do you press your lips to his. Something explodes in your gut, and whatever it is makes you shift your position closer to him. Your hands go up and you twine them behind his neck. Tom smiles in the kiss and moves both his hands to the small of your back, pressing you closer to him. 

You break the kiss and smile at him. “That… That was, uhh…”

“Yeah,” Tom says, his voice a little breathless. 

You both let out a little laugh and press your foreheads together. “This has been, uhh, pretty great.” 

Tom smiles and pecks your lips. “Yes, it has. Not what I thought would come from a blind date.” 

You shake your head with a smile. “Yeah. Who would’ve thought?”


End file.
